


May the Best Teacher Win

by ohstars



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Competition, Elementary School, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21582853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohstars/pseuds/ohstars
Summary: The quartet decides to hold a little competition to see who is the favorite out of the kids' connection teachers.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16
Collections: SVBB & MRBB Secret Santa 2019





	May the Best Teacher Win

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hey_you_with_the_face](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face/gifts).



> Happy Holidays!

“You know this is ridiculous, right?” Sam says. 

“Extremely,” Natasha says into her coffee mug. She’s hiding a smile, because no matter how much she says she hates this idea, she loves these dorks. 

Steve lays his coat against his desk chair and grabs his coffee from Bucky. “It’s just a simple activity. Just to put it to a vote.” 

“And exploit the kids,” Natasha says. 

Bucky waves his free hand. “We’re not exploiting anyone, here. Just trying to see who’s the favorite.” 

“You just want to see who gets the most art and that’s it.” Natasha walks around the art tables and toward the door. “If you need me, I’ll be in the music room.” 

“But are you in?” Steve calls. 

She groans, her red curls dropping off her shoulders with the movement. “I suppose.” 

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You all know I’m going to win, right?” 

“Bullshit,” Steve and Bucky both say. 

“We’ll see about that,” Natahsa says as she hangs on the doorframe. “Game on, boys.” She winks, blows a kiss, and then slinks out the door down to her own classroom in the Connections Wing. 

* * *

The plan was simple. Each connections teacher would give their classes a special, optional, assignment: make a card for your favorite connections teacher. Every. Single. Class. 

At the end of the month, on the last day of school before winter break, the four teachers would tally up their cards and the winner will be announced. The teacher who wins will give all their kids a hot chocolate and/or ice cream party on the first week back to classes in January. 

Steve had made little boxes for collecting the cards. Sam’s boxes were all sports; a basketball box with the top designed to look like the kids are slam dunking the cards -- he put this one in the gym, a football box with the slit as a touchdown that sits outside of the cafeteria, a baseball with home plate for the entrance of the connections hall, etc. Natasha’s were all different types of music; the one outside her classroom was ballet, a rock music box for the cafeteria, a pop for inside her classroom, rap for the hall entrance, etc. Bucky’s were some of the kids favorite video games, like  _ Mario Kart _ ,  _ Super Smash Brothers _ ,  _ Fortnite _ , and of course,  _ Minecraft _ . And Steve’s were all various styles of art; from Picasso’s style to dots, he tried to do a different era for each box. He liked his best. 

Now if only the teachers would keep things clean… 

* * *

Bucky places the last wrapped box on the workshop table. He’s had this planned from the beginning, but boy was it perfect. There’s no way the fifth graders will pick Natasha’s music class over  _ robots _ . The fifth graders have shown so much interest in his class, they’ll absolutely love the idea of building their own robot and then taking it home. 

He’s got this in the bag. 

* * *

Sam bounces the ball between his hands. Usually this is a fifth grade only game, but he’s got some strong fourth graders so they should be able to have some fun with it. Besides, if he can sway the fourth grade vote, he might be able to win since there’s so many of them. 

“Here’s how it works,” Sam says as he paces in front of the line of fourth graders, each neatly sitting against the wall, criss-crossed. “We’ll split into two teams, teams that may switch up if you guys want after the first game. Then each team will stay on their end of the court, protecting their pins. If all five pins fall, your team loses, even if someone from your team knocks it over. It’s like dodgeball, though, we have these super soft balls that you’ll throw to knock them over. Get hit, your out. Catch it, your out. Sound good?” 

A chorus of cheers and “yeahs” echo through the gym. 

Sam grins. “The first team is Mr. Barton’s class, second is Mr. Coulson’s. Let’s go!” 

* * *

Steve would never play dirty. Ever. He’s just doing what he does best: teach art. “That’s it, Hayley! What a beautiful composition!” Steve steadies the little girl on her chair and pushes it in so she doesn’t fall. 

“This is fun, Mr. Rogers!” Hayley laughs, she’s drowning in one of Steve’s work shirts. Hell, they all are. Each second grader stuffed in an oversized shirt that drapes to their ankles in hopes of protecting their clothes. Hopes are high, but these are second graders so one of them is bound to get paint on their clothes somehow. 

“Is it?” Steve asks. “Maybe I should try?”

Jose gasps. “Yes!” 

Steve leans over the table, careful to make sure his apron is covering his slacks. He dips his hand in the blue paint and smacks it against the paper, creating a splatter hand print on the page. 

“Whoa!” Reagan says. “Can I try?” 

“Sure, just make sure you keep it away from the edge of the paper, okay?” Steve laughs, wiping his hand on a damp rag. 

He watches as each second grader smacks their hand, covered in various colors of the rainbow, onto the page. Their hands look so small compared to his own. 

It was such a great idea to have each class do a hand-painted poster to display in the cafeteria. There’s some great abstract work going on, he might even be able to convince Principal Fury to put these in the showcase in the spring. 

“You’re the best, Mr. Rogers!” Stella says, face covered in paint. 

He doesn’t play dirty at all… 

* * *

Natasha purses her lips as she stares at the kindergarteners squirming in their seats. They don’t meet her gaze, each looking at their shoes or their hair or a piece of gum under their seats that a fifth grader stuck there last week. She taps her fingers on the stereo system, nails clicking against the plastic facade. “So,” she starts, “how are Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, and Mr. Wilson bribing you guys to vote for them?” 

Heather giggles as she raises her hand. “Mr. Barnes is letting us play games in class--”

“And Mr. Rogers is letting us finger paint!” Marcus cheers. 

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Is that so? And Mr. Wilson?” 

“We get to play whatever we want in his class,” Heather says again.

“I play with the hula hoops!” Brittany says. 

“Hula hoops and finger painting… They’re putting up a tough fight, aren’t they?” Natasha tinkers with the radio. “Guess I’ll just have to give you guys a dance party to keep up, right?”

And dance they did.

* * *

On the eve of the last day of school, Natasha settles into their couch with a mug of steaming tea cupped in her hands. “Who’s picking the movie?” 

“Think it’s Sammy’s,” Bucky says as he pops a piece of popcorn in his mouth. 

Steve opens his mouth, leaning back against Sam. 

Bucky tosses a piece into Steve’s mouth. “Ten points Gryffindor.” 

“Aren’t you a Hufflepuff?” Natasha asks as she scoots closer to Steve. 

Bucky sits beside her and sets the bowl between her and Steve. “You never hear Dumbledore say ‘Ten points Hufflepuff,’ right?”

“True, but if he gives points to Gryffindor then he’s bound to eventually give them to the other houses,” Steve says. 

“And he’s not the only one who can give points, either,” Sam says. 

“What is this? Rag on Bucky night?” Bucky pouts. 

Steve grins. “It’s always the perfect night to rag on you, Buck.” 

“Yeah, you’re too easy a target,” Sam says.

Steve nods. “It’s just the natural way. Jocks picking on nerds--”

“Hey, jackass, I was a ‘jock,’ too. We were on the same baseball team afterall.” Bucky throws another piece of popcorn at him. 

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Enough. Who’s picking the movie?” 

“Oh, I already did.  _ Die Hard _ is queued up,” Sam says, picking up the remote and starting the movie. 

Steve curls into Sam’s side. “The perfect winter movie,” he says. 

“Speaking of winter,” Bucky says, “we announce the winner tomorrow, don’t we?” 

“What a great transition,” Sam says, laughing. 

Natasha rolls her eyes and lays her head on Bucky’s shoulder. “We do, but we all agree, the kids are the real winners here, right?” 

“No, I’m definitely the real winner,” Steve says. 

“It’s totally the kids,” Bucky says. “No matter what, they get to skip one class to have a party instead of whatever ‘boring’ thing we would have them do.” 

“Aw, damn.” Steve chuckles. “You’re right.” 

“Besides, it doesn’t really matter who wins, anyway? At the end of the day, they prefer us to their regular teachers,” Sam says. 

Natasha points at him. “Very true, Mr. Wilson.” 

“And as the favorite teachers, I say we celebrate a little early and watch this movie before retiring for some fun of our own,” Bucky says, wiggling his eyebrows up. 

Steve smacks him with a pillow. 

* * *

They spent the next morning chugging coffee and counting their beautiful cards during their planning period. Some were more legible than others, but each one had the teachers smiling. 

“Look at this one,” Sam says, holding up a card with Sam lifting a weight three times his size. 

“Aw, they think you’re as strong as Steve!” Bucky cooed. “Isn’t that adorable?” 

“Shut up, Barnes,” Sam grumbles, looking down at the card. “It’s my new favorite.”

“Wasn’t the one with Colin Kapernick your favorite like two seconds ago?” Natasha asks as she shows Steve a card with Natasha doing ballet in front of a big crowd. 

Steve grins and shows one of him painting. “Yeah, how many favorites do you have at this point?” 

Sam shrugs. “I can have a ton of favorites.” 

“Are you even counting?” Steve asks, ticking down something on a piece of paper beside him. 

Bucky snorts. “I stopped counting like twenty minutes ago.” 

“We’ve only been doing this for ten, Buck?” 

Natasha laughs, a cheery little thing that makes everyone else stop and smile. “I don’t think we even have to count, do we?” 

Sam and Steve share a look. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” she stands up and motions to her table, stacked high with folded pieces of paper, “isn’t it obvious that I have the most?” 

Bucky nods. “She’s got a point.” 

“I think you scared them into picking you--” Sam says. 

“Are you saying they’re scared of me?” Natasha asks, raising an eyebrow as she puts her hands on her hips.

“I’m saying that you’re a wonderful and lovely lady who can be a tad intimidating,” Sam says. 

Natasha purses her lips. “I’ll take that.” 

“He’s totally scared of her,” Bucky stage-whispers to Steve. 

“One hundred percent,” Steve says. 

“But you know what this means?” Natasha asks. “I’m the favorite teacher! I’m the favorite teacher!” She sticks her tongue out as she starts dancing, wiggling her hips and moving her arms around. 

Steve laughs as he gets up, joining in her cheers. “Natasha wins!” 

Sam and Bucky grin at each other, before joining in. “I think you came up with this idea just so we’d have a happy Natasha over break,” Sam whispers. 

Bucky shrugs. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, but either way we got it so let’s celebrate.” 

They fist bump before they join their partners in their celebratory dance. 

A perfect way to end the semester. 


End file.
